


Running to Forget

by FreeTheSoul



Category: Granblue Fantasy (Video Game)
Genre: (kind of! pre-SoR), Angst, Gen, Introspection, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-27
Updated: 2020-02-27
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:01:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22926880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FreeTheSoul/pseuds/FreeTheSoul
Summary: Nehan sees a familiar face during a visit to Karm.
Kudos: 23





	Running to Forget

**Author's Note:**

> I feel more like a stranger in my own home /  
> All your past transgressions are etched in time /  
> Are we running to forget? /  
> Are we running from regret?

Karm was blessedly quiet today.

A warm summer breeze was rustling leaves and blowing through Nehan’s hair, disturbing the unruly tufts as he walked. His footsteps were silent as he came to a stop in front of an old tree, wizened but still sturdy.

With a quiet sigh, he removed his mask and squinted as the setting sun hit his bare eyes. He crouched on his heels after a moment, mask hanging from one hand as he withdrew a carefully-preserved lily from the inner pocket of his overcoat and placed it tenderly on the grass.

“I trust you’ve been well, Sister,” he murmured, keeping his expression and tone flat. “You too, Mom, Dad.”

He closed his eyes and exhaled slowly. “Not much has changed with me.”

Truth be told, Nehan has no idea what happened to the bodies of his family. He somehow held doubts that the scavenger that had pulled his half-lucid self from under their corpses and stuck him on the black market had had the decency to give them a common burial, and he would never find the man to ask. Still, when he had returned years later - and finally mustered the courage to look - there had been no bones or half-decomposed bodies in his abandoned house. He knew that someone had disposed of them at some point, but he would never know where they had been laid to rest. 

It left a bitter taste in his mouth - it was like adding insult to injury, somehow. He had been grief-stricken at the time, when it had finally registered that his family - the entirety of Karm - would never receive proper recognition.

As a means to deal with this, he had turned one of the nearby trees into a makeshift gravesite. He held the very distant memory of playing on it with his sister as a child, and so it had seemed fitting. Now, he made it a tradition to return every year or so to pay his respects.

This year, he had managed to make his trip while Karm’s characteristic purple flowers were in full bloom, their soft glow faintly lighting the area. They were the key ingredient in a particularly potent poison, but Nehan rarely had the heart to disturb the flora and harvest them for it. Instead, he stood and gazed out fondly at the lake they bloomed on, allowing himself to indulge in the rare tranquility that washed over him.

A noise disturbed his peace, and Nehan twisted around with a glare as his eyes searched for its source. He frowned when he found his vision obstructed by bushes, his ears swiveling forward in an attempt to pick up distinct sounds; a hand went to rest reflexively on his holster. Usually the scavengers were a bit more subtle than this, but he had no qualms about his prey making themselves into easy targets - he had made short work of his fair share of the misfortunate bastards who had chosen the wrong day to loot what remained of the hamlet. 

He was quiet as he advanced. It was a noisy group, but not incompetent if they’d managed to make it past the old traps that still lay in the area. Cocky, perhaps, but still a threat. The thought of having to deal with them was making his already poor mood worsen, and he suppressed a sigh.

His breath died in his throat when he realized who was standing mere meters away, back turned and busy talking to a rather energetic-seeming pair of children. He had never seen the man before, but by hair and appearance alone he could more than come to a conclusion. Resisting the urge to vomit, Nehan forced himself to breathe through his tightening throat.

Nehan’s ears flattened against his head. He could still taste his parents’ blood fresh on his lips, hear his sister’s high screams, feel the way that serrated blade had torn through his flesh. He could still remember all of it, and he’d be damned if he’d ever forget it when he still woke up at times with the memory vivid in his mind.

And the man who had done it was just _standing_ here, right in front of him.

The absurdity of it made him want to burst out laughing, but he held it back. He was better than that, of course. Still, his expression twisted into a disgusted sneer while he listened to what snippets of the conversation he could pick up - the audacity of this wretch; the utter gall it took to replace his memories with this simulacrum of a family that he’d found in these skyfarers.

He pushed himself to exhale slowly, coming to the rather numb realization that he’d clenched his fist so tight that it was starting to hurt. Nehan relaxed his grip gradually, eyes still fixed on the man in front of him. He had half a mind to shoot the boy from his nightmares in the back and be done with it, but a cold voice in the back of his head told him that it wouldn’t be enough. It would be a cheap satisfaction if he afforded this beast a mercy he’d never been privy to - what justice was there, Nehan thought, if he didn’t make the man feel even an ounce of his suffering?

Realizing he felt suddenly rather bare without his mask, he put it back on slowly and forced himself to rip his gaze from the Erune. He instead returned to the base of the tree he had placed the lily in front of, his expression hardening as he came to a decision.

Nehan was silent as he exited Karm, leaving the skyfarers and their monster to their devices for the time being. He would deal with this later - he would put this discovery to good use through his connections with the Magasin family, he told himself, bitter resolution coursing sluggishly through his veins.

For the first time in over a decade, Nehan felt something burning in his chest.

**Author's Note:**

> i wanted to write some sort of motivator for why nehan suddenly decided to go after six. am i setting myself up for failure by posting this before part 2 of SoR? maybe. but we live dangerously.
> 
> the title is from a red vox song
> 
> I find it rude when strangers comment criticism (constructive or not) unprompted, so please don't! I write fics for my own entertainment. Other comments are greatly appreciated, however.
> 
> Thank you for reading!


End file.
